We used to have a dog that ate bumblebees. She'd snap them out of the air, dispatch them with a quick bite, then swallow them whole. We always assumed she bit the stinger off before that last gulp, but she may well have swallowed the sting as well.
We always cheered her on; something about the buzz of a bee or hornet scared the bejeezus out of us kids, even though I only remember one of us six kids ever getting stung.
Now that I have a garden and fruit trees, I'm firmly on the side of the bees. Bumblebees, mason bees, honeybees, they're all welcome in our yard. One of my favorite sights is a worker bee, legs fat with pollen, clambering around the apple or raspberry blossoms.
So it's no surprise that I paint bees on covered crocks, creamers, dessert plates, and, yes, honey jars.
Busy busy busy...